Ashes To Ashes
by Kazuya-sama
Summary: This is a What If. What if - Kazuya never survived that first fall? Lee Chaolan, a new addition to the Mishima household, will soon discover the mystery of the reasons behind his adoption...and that he lives in a haunted house.
1. When It Ends Before It Begins

A/N: This is a 'what if' story I've been working on for a while now…I just haven't been bothered writing it. In it, the what if is simple. What if Kazuya didn't survive that fall when he was five?

Lee is a year younger than Kazuya, and for once Heihachi is not a complete bastard. He's not entirely evil…he simply hates Kazuya. He's also terrible at being sympathetic to other's needs through his arrogance, though he does try. So this is rather AU in a way. It's a bit of a tear-jerker at times too, or at least in my opinion.

Enjoy.

***  
Ashes To Ashes  
***

The ultimate sin had been committed, and there was nothing she could do but feel the pain, the scorching, burning heat of the agony she would bear in living with the aftermath of this sin.

Her tears had ceased to fall, since there was nothing left to cry. She had been drained to nothing. Her eyes stung with the salinity of her tears; they shared the same red, puffy, tender skin as her cheeks and lips from the hours upon hours of uncontrollable weeping.

As she sat back on the sofa, she raised a shaky hand to gently, lightly pet the red and white bundle in her arms. It was a mass of white sheets and towels, soaked in blood. She paused. Could she dare to look? She might as well. There was nothing left to cry. Once again, she brushed aside the towel covering the upper portion of the little bundle, her hands shaking uncontrollably. 

Even though she had cried till she could cry no more, tears came once again. The pain was too much to bear – for see too was committing the ultimate sin by still being alive.

The little bundle of sheets and towels had been masking the body of a child. The face of the little boy, pale with its lack of blood – of life – stared up into abyss through closed eyes. He was at peace. The young face, barely only five years old, was that of an intelligent young fighter…the sort of face fellow mothers all took great delight in kissing and pinching the cheeks in delight. He was a gorgeous young creature…now lifeless. Lifeless in his mother's arms.

She let out a silent whimper and stroked back the soft, fluffy raven hair on the boy's head. It was completely blood-soaked, but dry – he'd passed away hours ago. The little body, hidden beneath the red and white blankets, was ripped and torn beyond recovery…he would have died a slow, agonising death of blood loss, since it was that sort of injury alone that caused him to lose his young, innocent life. The five-year-old's rounded, chubby cheeks would no longer puff out with that rare, gorgeous smile he would occasionally bear in one of those moments of joy that seemed so few and far between. As a mother, she'd failed. And she'd committed the ultimate sin a mother could.

She'd outlived her only son.

And she could have no more children. Kazuya was to be her only child, since she was never supposed to be able to bear one in the first place. His birth had made her ill and weak, but at the same time, it had brought her indescribable joy in seeing her son growing up strong and healthy. Heihachi had hated the boy immensely for the inadvertent damage wrought upon the woman, and had punished the boy ever since he could talk and walk. And now he'd confirmed that hatred once and for all. He believed the boy deserved to die, and had disposed of him nonchalantly by thrusting him from the top of the cliff and leaving him to die. The ultimate sin for a father to commit – killing his one and only son.

Aiko had searched the base of the cliff for hours and hours afterward, seeking desperately for her young son. Her silly hope that he may have survived such a fall had been dashed upon the very rocks the boy had fallen upon when she saw his twisted and broken body lying on a rock directly below where he was dropped from. Broken bones and terrible lacerations would have ailed the youth as he'd lain there, but what would have killed him was blood loss – from an almighty gash across his chest, exposing tender crimson flesh from beneath. Fear and heartache had filled her weakened body with strength and energy; she had carried the boy hurriedly all the way back to the Mishima mansion, and even tended pointlessly to each and every wound.

Now she sat there, petting his hair, staring down at the dead boy's face, unable to believe fully what had happened. She felt as if she had died herself, along with the only ray of sunshine left in her bleak life beneath Heihachi's rule.

Speaking of which…she could hear his heavy footsteps echoing closer and closer, the wooden sandals he favoured creating that distinctive sound against the cold tiles of the mansion. Quickly she dried her tender eyes and cheeks, and covered the boy's face with the towel once more.

"Aiko-chan…" He entered the large family room, but stopped dead when he saw the shape of the mass of sheets she was holding.

She didn't respond, only looked up at him blankly. Agitated by her silence and insolence, he marched up to her and slapped her across the face. "I told you not to follow me!"

With the impact and force behind the strike, Aiko was thrown aside, and ended up lying sideways across the couch. Unwanted sobs escaped her throat, her torso heaving and jerking with her cries. Her arms clung to her late son's body tightly, not letting the cold, limp figure go.

The sight of his wife in such a state of hysteria evoked a sense of guilt within Heihachi's heart…he suddenly resented striking her. He shouldn't have lost his temper. Kneeling down, he reached out and stroked aside her dark hair from her face, and let his cool fingers rest upon her heated face. "Aiko…it's alright…you'll be alright…everything is okay…please stop crying now…"

She tried her hardest, and eventually her sobs subsided…she sat up, still clinging to the bundle of linen, and watched the floor.

"You should dispose of that thing before it rots." Heihachi's voice lacked emotion in reference to his son. 

"I will." Hers did too, in reference to the cruelty of her husband.

"Soon." He insisted.

She ignored him, and squeezed the tiny arm gently through the sheets. She valiantly fought back another round of hysteria.

He sighed and sat down next to her. "Aiko…your attachment to him is only temporary. Soon you will forget him…just think of it. You will no longer need to run around after him, clean up after him…you can now peacefully rest…in fact, you may soon recover if you can rest!"

Aiko bit her lip, lest another explosion erupt from her.

"You're not going to _keep_ it, are you?"

She stood indignantly with the boy still in her arms. "Mishima-sama, I am not a psychotic, sick woman…I don't keep dead bodies." With that, she left the house with what remaining energy she had.

***

It had been almost two years since the disaster, and Aiko had never completely recovered. Physically, she was better, but mentally, she had taken on all of her son's wounds, along with many of her own…life grew more and more painful every day.

And every day was as endless as the next – she had to force herself to sleep and force herself to eat…she would rather just lie around all day and cry, wishing she would die…and join her son, wherever he be.

Today she was sitting at the dining room table with a glass of wine…her third today. Heihachi was out somewhere, and was due back soon…he would tell her to put her drink away and stop moping about. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything any more. 

It seemed he would be back home early today; Heihachi walked in the door with his usual lack of quietness, announcing at the top of his lungs that he was home. She gave him no response. 

"Aiko, where are you, I have someone here for you to meet!" Heihachi's voice was enthusiastic, as were his footsteps. A moment later, he entered the dining room, followed by the pitter-patter of small feet. Aiko glanced up blankly at her husband, unsmilingly as ever, waiting for an explanation.

Heihachi's proud smirk grew. "I've noticed lately you've been a little depressed. I believe it's because your mothering instincts are unfuelled as of late…so I have a gift for you to help you recover." Little did he realise how insensitive his attempted sensitivity would prove to be.

Aiko followed his hand, and raised her brows slightly when she saw, standing behind the tall male, a small boy.

Surprised, and mildly curious, she stood up and walked over to the child, who was obviously frightened by the whole ordeal. And he was beautiful. Beneath heavy lashes were soft, gentle dark hazel eyes, partially hidden by thick locks of soft silver hair. His face was slender, as was the rest of his body…he looked so calm, so innocent…almost perfect.

Heihachi smiled at the both of them. "Aiko…meet Lee. Formerly Chaolan…now Mishima."

The boy seemed terrified as Aiko raised a cool, delicate hand toward him, but he stayed still as a statue. The thin fingers brushed over his cheek, and her head fell to the side slightly. "Hello Lee."

Though he was trembling all over, Lee nodded in return, trying not to display his fear. For such a young child, he was brave.

"Lee, you will refer to Aiko as 'Mother'."

"Y-yes, father…" Lee's voice was barely audible, wavering in its youthful heightened pitch. 

Heihachi glanced at the both of them, smiling once more. "I'm glad to see you've taken a liking to him. Since your body is now stronger, you should be able to fully cope with the role of mother now…how about you go and show Lee to his room?"

She nodded, head low, and grasped the boy's hand gently. As she passed by Heihachi, he stopped her, and placed a kiss against her neck. "This is for the best, Aiko-chan." She only stood there a moment, before muttering an agreement, and led Lee away, up the grandiose stairs of the Mishima mansion, to the second floor – where the bedrooms resided.

The small hand buried beneath Aiko's fingers was sweaty and shaky, seemingly unsure whether to hold into her for dear life or let go and run…for dear life.

"Lee, are you okay?" Her soft voice purred weakly down at the little boy, forcing a rare, very slight smile.

He bit his lower lip for a moment, contemplating a suitable answer for the mysterious woman. Finally, he decided to go with his first idea – the truth. "I'm scared."

She squeezed his hand gently as she led him down the hall. "In this house, everyone is scared."

He tensed within her grasp. "…o-of what?"

_Death_, she thought to herself. _No…of not dying. Scared of not dying._ But she couldn't tell such a small boy something like that. "Of a lot of things…" She didn't want to worry the poor creature. "But don't fret…I'll protect you, Lee. I'll protect you from anything that scares you…"

From that point, she stayed silent for the rest of the journey to the end of the hall. Lee too, stayed quiet, still scared, but thoughtful along with it. This place, whatever it was, seemed better by far than the streets he had been taken from. It was like the rich-bitch houses his friends had told him of…somewhere you always wanted to be, because you got to eat every day and have clean clothes and a warm bed. Even so…it still seemed so very…wrong. He felt like he was in violation of some unspoken rule in being here.

They entered a room at the very end of the hall. It was behind a massive wooden door – he would have to train to get the strength to properly open it – and the doorhandle was just a little too high. The room, though it was smaller than all the others they'd passed by, it was still fairly large and grandiose in comparison to anything he'd ever seen before. Would he be sleeping in this mini-kingdom?

"How old are you, Lee-chan?"

He looked up at her from beneath those heavy lashes. "I'm six…"

_Six_...she thought. _Kazuya would be seven in another month. Kazuya…oh Kazuya, you poor soul…_ She bit her lip to fight back the tears. "Six…you're a big boy now."

She ushered him into the room, and sat him down on the bed. "You can sleep in here until I can get your own room ready for you. Dinner will be in two hours…you can play in here, or downstairs, whatever you like…just be a good boy." He sat there, still disoriented and terribly nervous…to try and calm him, she leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "You'll be okay Lee, I promise."

The small boy nodded, and looked about, starting to calm himself down. This room looked like it had been lived in before…the sheets on the bed were pattered with aeroplanes rather than the white silk he'd seen on the huge bed in the master bedroom on the way here. There was a shelf in the open wardrobe which had books stacked on it…probably colouring books or bedtime stories by the look of them. Beside it hung a few pairs of white gi pants. Other than that, it was an empty room, save a small desk at the end of the bed…but it had definitely been lived in.

"Excuse me…but who was in here before me?" Lee half-braced himself for a whollop…he knew he shouldn't ask questions. To his utter relief, Aiko simply gave him a weak smile…but what did he see in her eyes? Nervousness, sadness? A tear?

"There was a little boy just like you who lived here in the past. He doesn't live here any more…it's just the three of us now."

Lee nodded, and crossed his legs on the bed. Aiko leaned down and placed another kiss on his forehead. "I'm going to organise dinner now…the chef never remembers how to make what we're having. I'll call you when it's ready."

*

With a stomach full of the biggest, most delicious meal he'd ever had, the softest, warmest pyjamas he'd ever worn, and the most comfortable bed he'd ever lain upon beneath him, Lee felt great. Aiko was the kindest woman he'd ever met, and though she seemed so tired, she was truly beautiful. He would be proud to call her mother – since he didn't know his own. All he knew was that he was Chinese, and unwanted. Until now. 

Lee let out a wide yawn, then snuggled down beneath the lush covers of the three-quarter bed. It had been a long day, so he was tired…tired enough to fall asleep right away.

His small arm reached out from under the covers, and switched off the lamp. Darkness filled the bedroom, with only a small crack of blue light from the moon peeking through the thick curtains covering the window beside the bed. The darkness didn't scare the former street-boy, though. He'd seen worse in his six years. He yawned again, and looked toward the door to his left. So large…so heavy…it would be so hard to open in the morning. He hoped they didn't forget he was in here.

Suddenly, he didn't feel alone. Someone was watching him.

"I hope you like my bed." The soft voice of a young child filled the room – slightly husky, definitely no older than Lee himself.

He gasped at the sudden sound, and sat up with a start, looking about the room frantically. His heart nearly stopped in his chest when he saw the culprit standing beside the window, a few metres from the end of the bed.

It was a young boy, barely his age…if not younger…only Lee could see straight through him. The ghostly figure stood tall and proud, his heavy glare boring into Lee painfully.

"Who…who are you?" Lee's voice wavered…he drew a ragged breath.

The translucent boy looked up. "I'm nobody." The thick raven brows lowered. "You better be careful…or you may get killed too."

Lee's eyes stung with tears, and he looked about frantically…when he looked back, there was nothing. Nothing but the light playing between the gap in the curtains upon the plush carpet.

He closed his eyes, and held his breath for a few seconds…then dropped down onto the pillow again, released his breath, and tried to go to sleep. The house was haunted, and someone was going to kill him. Terrified, yet mustering as much bravery as he possibly could, the six-year-old silver haired boy closed his eyes, letting a crystal tear drop from his eyes…soaking into the ghost's pillow.


	2. Dust To Dust

A/N: Thanks to everyone's reviewing, I'm doing an update spree lately…though I should really be doing schoolwork ^^; Thank you all!

Oh, and I feel the necessity to point out something curious.

You know the group 'System Of A Down'?

Yes, I know they're loud and stuff. But LISTEN to me! Their song – Chop Suey – is perfect for the character everyone knows as my favourite…if you haven't heard it already, you probably think I'm nuts. If you have…agree with me or else.

"Father into your hands, I commend my spirit; father, into your hands…why have you forsaken me, in your eyes forsaken me, in your thoughts forsaken me, in your heart forsaken me?"

Hint hint! Oh…and as if that's not enough…there's more. The main singer sounds like Kazuya from Tekken 4. Don't believe me? Listen to Aerials by the same group. You'll notice his voice has the same depth and strength...resonance and all. It's Kazuya speaking English, I swear. Listen to the aforementioned song every now and again if you're reading one of my fics…if you really want to get into the mood. It's something I listen to when I write them…sometimes some of the song will come through, if I'm lucky. You need to listen to the end of the song to get the good bits ;

Alright…enough of that. I feel nuts enough already after babbling about a random metal/rock group o.@;;

On with the show!  
  
***  
  
  


With little Lee at school, and Heihachi at the office in town, Aiko had nothing to do with her day except sit at home and drink wine. After all, the servants did everything else. When at home, however, she was haunted by the memories of a little boy that once lived within the confines of the majestic mansion. She could hear his voice, that calm little voice, chattering in the distance as he muttered to himself over homework; she could hear his tiny footsteps up and down the stairs as he came back from school…and she could still hear his screams, faintly, way off in the family dojo as he sparred beneath his father's brutal hand.

Though the sounds were nothing but memories, deep within her mind, she still couldn't help but grow deeper and deeper into a depression she knew she'd never recover from. She could never put him aside. He had been a gift to her from the heavens; a woman, never to conceive a child, had given birth to a beautiful, intelligent son – against all doctor's beliefs. He had been a miracle. A miracle, put to death by his very creator. 

Every time she thought of him, the tears threatened to break loose. Finally, it had built up within her to a point she could no longer tolerate. Today, she knew that she could take no more. It had to end.

Heihachi and the servants could look after Lee. The house would go on without her. After swallowing the remainder of the sweet, golden liquid within the ornate crystal glass before her, the stood, drew a breath, and crept toward the kitchen, almost as if she was scared to disturb the very tiles beneath her, let alone anyone else who may be in the house.

She fished through the top drawer in the kitchen cupboards for a moment, then found the tool of her choice. A long, yet elegant blade – normally used for slicing meat. This time, she would use it for a different kind of flesh.

It took a long time examining the knife before Aiko turned to stand over the kitchen sink, the blade angled over her thin porcelain wrist. With any luck, since it would be at least an hour before anyone got home, there was no risk of getting caught.

The blade touched her skin…but before she could apply any pressure, she heard something in the near distance. The sound of something falling. Someone was there!

She swallowed, and placed her weapon aside. "Lee? Is that you?" What was the boy doing home at this hour? After one year of being here, he had never skipped a day of school.

Silence.

Her hands trembled with anxiety as she left her knife and looked around the corner of the kitchen door. "Who's there?"

Another alien sound caught her ears. This time, the sound of small, bare feet on tiles. With her breath quickening, her heart rising in her throat, she whipped back around into the massive kitchen…and gasped.

Next to the knife, a small tanned hand sat palm-down. Its owner's dark obsidian eyes bored darkly into Aiko's accusingly. Her heart was fluttering at a speed she never thought possible. The tears came once more. Her thin, bony hands reached to touch her lips…a restrained sob escaped them.

The ghostly figure of the small boy was standing beside the bench-top, the small, round arm barely able to reach the knife on the counter-top. Yet he made every effort to let her know he knew what she was going to do. Reaching up a little further, he managed to grasp the lavishly decorated knife handle, and pull the dangerous tool downwards, admiring it in both tiny hands. The index finger of the unused hand ran over the sharp edge, and his wide yet fine raven brows rose in curiosity.

"This thing is sharp…"

Aiko's breath hitched in her throat, followed by a loud sob. Already, her cheeks were stained red with salty tear streaks. That familiar voice…the one that she'd ached to hear for three years now. The boy would have been eight soon…and here he stood, translucent and emitting a supernatural luminescence, his five-year-old's body completely intact, as if he'd never been harmed by anything. 

His eyes trailed up to meet hers. "You were going to use this on yourself?" The look on his youthful face demanded an answer.

Aiko took a few seconds to half her uncontrollable cries, and bit her lip, making a brave attempt to smile. "I wanted to be with you, my son…I wanted nothing more than to be with you…"

Kazuya seemed unperturbed by the continuation of her sobs. As she fell to her knees, crying, looking up at him desperately, he walked slowly toward her, his tiny bare feet making not a sound, as if he weren't touching the floor at all. An open cupboard door in his path perturbed him even less. In fact, he walked straight through it as if he were nothing but a hallucination. This little trick wrenched even more devastated cries from Aiko. 

He stopped only a foot in front of her, as she began weeping to the point she could barely breathe. She pulled her hands from her reddened, puffy eyes for a moment, only to see his stoic face before hers. She couldn't help but break down again. She could never hug her son again! He was a ghost – all he could do was haunt her, remind her of her worthlessness.

Or so she thought. After another half a minute, she forced back the garbled chokes, and looked up. He was kneeling before her, looking up at her intently, watching with child-like innocence and curiosity as she calmed herself. Before long she found herself staring into his dark eyes, those obsidian orbs…the endless abyss that lay within them. One of his small hands reached up toward her swollen cheek…the soft, cool skin made contact with Aiko's…the coldness bringing startling relief to her puffy flesh. It brought chills down her spine…it was as if he was alive.

"Don't cry, mommy…" His voice was nothing above a whisper. He reached out to gently grasp around her neck with his short, rounded arms. Hysterically, she hugged him bone-crushingly tight, kissing his cheeks, running her hands through his hair, sobbing against his tiny shoulder. His familiar smell…it filled her nose as she pressed it against his neck, clinging to his clothes, his tiny chest, his small arms. That delightful feel of his arms around her neck…she felt like…like a…mother…again.

It was endless minutes before she finally let the small boy go. As she did, he broke out into a tiny smile. "I'll always be with you, here…Okaasan…never forget…I'm always right…here…" He placed a small hand on the centre of her dress, and gave her a regal smile, holding his youthful head high. He tried to pull away, but Aiko reached out to grab his arm before he could.

Her hand went right through his flesh, and grabbed thin air. This wrenched a cry of dismay from her throat, followed by a sob of distraught. "No…"

He reached for the knife again. He'd placed it back on the countertop before he walked over to her. He took it in both hands, then pulled the draw open. Carefully, he placed it back in the knife compartment, held onto the drawer (which seemed miles into the air at his height) and looked back over his shoulder. "You shouldn't leave knives on the bench, Okaasan. Remember you told me that when I was younger? Someone could get hurt…remember?"

Meaningfully, he shut the draw with a bang, and leaned back against it casually. Aiko was hysterical at this point, wrought with guilt and hopelessness, depression and sorrow. She had her hands over her face, barely able to breathe through her sobs.

Kazuya took a little breath. "Don't cry Okaasan…don't forget…I'll always be with you…"

Sensing her calm down somewhat, the five-year-old smiled softly, turned…and dissipated.


	3. Forgotten

A/N: Here I am again with this story...I think it'll be a bit more of a tear-jerker this time than anything. I put a bit more emotion into it...ah yes, to paraphrase Michelle...it's all unfolding )

Oh yeah. My apologies for not updating for a while. You see, in my house, there are four computers that are internet-capable, including one laptop, a super-comp down here (which I'm working on), an old shit-bomb, and a made-in-Vietnam (I am completely serious and telling the truth...I lived in HCMC and got my first compy there ^_^) backyard job...only the shit-bomb (which is nowhere near as old as the 'made-in-VN riceburning comp', as my friend puts it) is internet capable with out ADSL...which we usually have. So now I can't upload anything from this one, which is windows XP, which means the network hates it from the other ends...and the 56K modem on the shit-bomb is slower than my friend's 33.6K...I think that's what it is anyhow. Yeah. It's slow. So updates will be rare and random until we can resolve the DSL issue here. Sorry folks.

Anyhow. Ashes to Ashes.

***  
  
Boredom would have been a good verb at this point to describe how he was feeling. Bored, bored, bored. He sat and stared at the scrawling text beneath his elbows – why did he have to go to school anyway? To put it lightly, he felt completely out of place at this upper-crust primary school of all places; two long years ago he was a 'street urchin', with nowhere to go but beneath a bridge, nowhere to eat but from whatever restaurant around was throwing food scraps into a nearby dumpster. He, Lee Chaolan, was not a rich-bitch, was not an academic, and did NOT want to study English!

Sighing softly, Lee looked back down at his English textbook. Stupid, incomprehensible language. The grammar was back-to-front, and the words were impossible to pronounce. Yet, Heihachi, his 'father', had forced the class upon him. He hated studying anything, but more than anything, English. It was hard enough learning Kanji two years ago...now all these bizarre letters printed before him threatened to repeat the painful exercise.

A moment later, Lee flopped the book shut, and stared at the front cover. _Class: 3B. Name: Mishima Lee. Mishima...no, he was not a Mishima, no matter how much they tried to change him into one. Heihachi wanted him to be the perfect son; obedient, intelligent, and a great fighter. Aiko seemed to want to force him into a certain mould, a certain pair of shoes...make him become someone that he was not, possibly someone she knew in the past._

As he brushed a few silky streaks of silver hair from his hazel eyes, Lee caught the old witch of a teacher glaring at him from above her old, thick spectacles. The scowl was enough to send shivers up his spine...and, for fear of his personal safety; he quickly re-opened the book and attempt to decipher this bizarre language.

***  
  
Home. That was a strange concept to the young Mishima. After school every day he would jump into the back seat of a black limousine, trying not to even touch the leather upholstery within, as futile as it may seem...and watch the other children stare and mutter scornfully amongst themselves as he was driven off like a rich man's son. Yes, that was what Heihachi wanted him to be. A rich boy's son – something he wasn't.

The long ride back to the Mishima Zaibatsu compound was ample time offered to him to think. For an eight-year-old, he found himself to be awfully depressed. Everything was a drag...in any other situation, this position he'd obtained would be a joy, his life's dream...but all he could think about, night and day, was the way he was being forced to become something he was not, to become perfect...he was being built into something new, and the food, accommodation, the family...they were all just side-effects, nothing but small payment for his trials and troubles.

He never spoke to the drivers, only sat there, fiddling with the tops of his socks beneath his knees, or the pockets of his blazer. Of course, he had friends at school...but he was never allowed to invite them home...and certainly not allowed to let them ride in the family limousine. That would not do. That too, was a pain, along with everything else.

Of late, however, on those long trips home between the torment of school and the heavy loads of homework and study to 'catch up' with everyone else, he'd realised there was something else he could dwell on, to occupy his time. He'd begun to remember the appearance of that ghost...up until recently, he'd dismissed it as nerves and tiredness...but he'd realised that it actually happened when he'd overheard hearing his 'parents' talking in the dining room one night, when he was supposed to be asleep. They were speaking of another boy...a boy named Kazuya. He remembered that name instantly – the ghost! So, today, as he'd been doing over the last month or so, instead of feeling sorry for himself and feeling depressed, he'd decided to try and unravel the enigma of the haunted Mishima house.

So far, he'd formed a few theories as to what was going on. Though he was not an academic, he was still smart – street smart – something no Mishima would ever be, but him. The first was easy – they'd adopted another child before, and somehow he'd died. Lee was adopted, possibly, to replace him. After all, Heihachi often spoke of Lee as a remedy to Aiko's 'mothering instincts'. Another was that they'd known a child once, perhaps a nephew or a friend's son, and wished for a child the same. That would explain why Aiko wanted him to fit such a tight mould...but it didn't explain why he saw the ghost.

The third was the most scarifying of all, and the most unlikely in his mind. He knew, from talking with her, that Aiko was unable to have children – a medical condition she'd been born with. If she did manage to conceive a child, it would leave her too weak to do anything, or worse still, she wouldn't live at all. That was what the doctors had told her, she had said. But his theory ran like this; somehow, Aiko did bear a child, and it made her fall ill. She had the baby, but it didn't survive for long – as a result of whatever it was that was wrong with her. The ghost of the child was what was haunting him, in this theory...though he'd only seen it once. But there was only one thing that bothered him.

The ghost spoke of killing, not death. Death would fit most, if not all of his ideas...but not _killed. That was the little phantom's exact words_. "___…or you may get killed too." _

Though the whole idea was gruesome and black, it was nothing unfamiliar; strange things happen on the streets. He was not afraid, only curious. Now, if only he could get rid of this depressing, dark 'home' life. He could properly investigate this whole mystery – like a real live detective!

Finally, the limo pulled up to the massive iron gates of the Mishima Zaibatsu. The guards let it pass through, and the driver hurtled the sleek black car up the driveway toward the house, parked, and let Lee out.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Lee wandered out and up the stairs of the mansion, his head down as usual, and wandered indoors. Aiko was downstairs with a glass of wine. She waved. He waved back. So much for a greeting, a hug, a kiss hello...so much for a family. They were so over-rated. 

There was a snack sitting on his desk in his room, thankfully...he was sure ravenous from a hard day at school. As he sat down to eat, he pulled his books out of his bag, and plopped them on the desk before him. English for beginners, third grade science, The Math Wonderbook, social studies notebooks, WWII text...blah. Time for another riveting session of homework.

***  
  
After a hard day of work, Heihachi felt remarkably good. Perhaps it was the lovely dinner Aiko and the chefs had prepared that evening for himself and Lee...she'd even been so kind as to flash him a smile as she ate. It was forced, but nevertheless, he appreciated the gesture.

At any rate, it was time to tidy up some business. Work was never done, after all. He picked up his briefcase with ease, no matter how much junk there was in there, and wandered upstairs to his office.

He passed by Lee's bedroom on the way down the hall; the door was shut and the light was on. Good, he was working too; such an obedient boy. The thing he liked about that child was the fact that he didn't protest as much as Kazuya. _Kazuya... the name still haunted him! Why must that child refuse to die? It was not fair; such a failure, an annoying creature...Aiko had loved the brat so much that Heihachi almost – almost – felt guilty for disposing of the boy. Alright, so he did almost miss him. He couldn't even remember why he hated the child so much. The memories still remained clear in his mind – he was a good father, a good husband...but he was not ready to __be a father. Aiko was not able to be a mother either – she was not physically able to have one...until Kazuya appeared into the world. _

Something Heihachi found himself forced to admit was that Kazuya was a bright boy. He'd always been top of the class, the only one bale to read and read properly, and though he was weak for a fighter...he'd mastered the art of tactics at the mere age of five. He almost missed him – he was sharper than Lee, and he was his own blood.

But the past is the past.

As he neared his office, he could have sworn he heard the voice of a child humming. Strange. It sounded a little like Lee. What was that boy doing? He glanced back over his shoulder at the door down the hall; still closed, light still on. He was supposed to be in there! What was he doing in his office?!

Heihachi flung the door open and marched in. "Lee what are you doing in here?" His voice was carefully modulated and patient, but bordering on the edge of dangerous. The child stopped humming for a second, but continued a moment later.

After dropping his briefcase aside, Heihachi looked up at his desk...and he could have sworn, his heart stopped dead in his chest.

Sitting at the desk was a young child, humming peacefully as he assaulted a large piece of paper with a crayon. It wasn't Lee.

He stared, spellbound and speechless as the young boy continued to draw with his oversized black crayon, a red one in the other fist, a few locks of raven hair hanging down over his dark eyes. Eventually, the child looked up. Heihachi's heart froze over within the blackened depths of the child's icy, obsidian glare.

After a moment, the boy looked down, placing the crayons aside, and picked up the piece of paper, leaning back in the huge leather swivel-chair like the Zaibatsu's CEO might. "Look what I drew, Daddy..."

The paper was scribbled on with remarkable ability for a five-year-old. Between the two sets of tiny fingers lay a playful image of a family; on the left, a tall stick figure with two black triangles on his head, one on either side, and a broad smile. On the right was a shorter figure with a triangle for a body...in the middle of the two, holding onto corresponding hands, was a small black-haired child, smiling innocently. A house on a hill lay in the background, and a grinning sun shone in the sky above.

Heihachi gasped and stumbled back, tripping over his case, and ended up crashing to the ground. The sound of his laboured breaths were all that filled the room. The small boy slipped off the chair, and disappeared behind the desk for a moment. He walked around the back, and stood beside it, leaning against the richly lacquered, highly expensive woodwork, and tilted his head to the side. "What, are you surprised to see me, Otousan?"

He could see right through the wretched creature! He was sure he was losing his mind. Losing his mind! It couldn't be guilt...he hated the child! But he was his own son...his own son...his own flesh and blood. He'd betrayed himself by betraying the child, it was obvious now...and now the boy stood before him, a ghostly apparition, a shadow-less imitation of his former self. 

"You...you're dead! You're supposed to be dead! How...how are you here!" The words didn't want to come.

The child smiled innocently, and wandered over to the quivering man. "I _am dead..." The matter-of-factuality in the child's youthful voice was painful, even to Heihachi. Yes, indeed, regret, guilt and pain were emotions he was feeling at present. _

"Then leave me alone! Leave us alone! You don't belong here!" His voice was shaking in fear...he scuffled backward, panicked, as the child approached him. He glanced away a moment, then back at the boy...only to see him differently...somehow...he was slowly changing...though it didn't seem as if he was any different. Before his very eyes, the clothes melted away to nothing, and the child's colour dissolved. Slowly, surely, great gaping wounds appeared here and there; the most prominent was a raw, bleeding, open laceration across his tiny chest...great trails of crimson snaked down his small, naked body...over the existing cuts, wounds and intense black bruises. The child's face darkened...though the flesh looked pale and cold, dark rings formed beneath his eyes, with more bruising and wounds appearing...and he scowled, staring up at his father through lowered brows.

"I would if you hadn't killed me..."

Heihachi was staring at a corpse. A corpse...a living corpse...the walking dead. He was never superstitious, but this was insane. He knew he was losing it at this point. "Leave us..."

Kazuya stepped closer. Heihachi found himself up against the wall...nowhere left to go. The apparition leaned down gracefully, letting a tiny, cold hand rest against his father's cheek. For what seemed like eternity, the two locked eyes...from one strong soul to another, their stares seemed to exchange more talk than words could ever hope to...and only then did Heihachi realise what atrocity he had committed. The ghost before him was once a living creature, free-thinking, intelligent – and once his own. A child is the greatest gift one could wish for – the affirmation that one's soul will never die; it will be carried on from generation to generation, appearing here, appearing there, once in a while, in every descendent. And he'd ended his only chance to do so. He would die; he would die with his body. But worse than that – Aiko was right. He'd committed the ultimate sin, and had never realised it. Well...here was his fate. To be haunted by the guilt, the knowledge that he could never undo the damage; not with Lee, not with anyone.

Slowly, Kazuya's wounds faded, and he returned to his previous appearance. The hand shifted, and the boy walked away from the still slightly panicked man. "I know you're sorry, father...you don't have to say it. I understand..."

He took a breath. "You understand what...?"

Once again, Kazuya's haunting eyes locked onto Heihachi's. "That you feel guilty that you can never make Okaasan happy again...because I am gone..."

That hit home. It was true; no matter how hard he tried, Aiko would always be the depressed housewife, sitting at home with a bottle of wine, wishing to die, and join the only joy left in her life that had been taken away from her. Oh, why had he been so blind? So cruel, so heartless...if only he knew he was supposed to love his son as a gift of life...not a burden upon an ill woman. 

Again, the child began to sing...a soft, gentle song...the dark, ghostly voice hitting perfect notes. _"In the memory you'll find me, eyes burning up..."_

He was walking away, slowly becoming more and more indistinct. Heihachi scrambled to his feet...he couldn't let him just disappear! How could he ever make things right?

_"The darkness holding me tightly..."_ Before he could finish, he disappeared completely, leaving a sickening silence hanging in the room like the smell of death._ ...Until the sun rises up._ Heihachi knew that song. He also knew, now, that the sun would never rise up. It only rises once in a lifetime...and Heihachi had shot it down in the morning.

***  
  
Lying in his bed, Lee tried to decipher more of that mystery that he'd begun to unravel. Music played softly in the background from the small radio sitting on the windowsill...it had been words from it that had reminded him of the ghost in the first place... _A little piece of paper with a picture drawn...floats on down the street till the wind is gone...and the memory now is like the picture was then...when the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again..._

The song continued...knowing he was meant to be asleep at this hour – since everyone else was – he reached to turn it off, then fell back down against the pillow. This darkness, this position...it reminded him of that first night in the Mishima household.

He rolled over towards the door, just as he had two years ago, to stare at the darkness. Creepy. He felt, somehow, as if this was almost a game...and to tempt fate, to see if lightning strikes twice in one place...he rolled over to look down at the end of the bed. And clamped his hand over his mouth to strangle the scream that came.

"Big boys aren't meant to scream." It was him again. _Him._

Lee swallowed, and scuffled back in the bed. This time he wouldn't be scared...the kid was right. He was eight – a big boy – and big boys don't scream. Besides, this would help to solve a mystery...THE mystery.

"I know who you are..."

The ghost smiled. "I know who you are too..."

Lee decided to bite the bullet. "Kazuya...I need to ask you something..."

Silence. The two stared for at least a few seconds...then the youth turned and walked away. 

"No wait..."

He kept on walking.

Lee leapt out from beneath the covers, bounded across the room, and grabbed at the boy's hand...only to remember that he was a ghost, and you can't touch them...

...but nevertheless, a moment later, he found a tiny, warm wrist in his larger hand, and the small boy looked up at him, shocked, and even a little scared. The wide obsidian eyes reflected...fear. Yes, he was still only a little boy. 

Since he was so much bigger than the little Japanese boy, he suddenly felt like a bit of a bully. He loosened his grasp. "I'm sorry...but I really want to know..."

The tiny wrist tugged slightly against Lee's hand. "I don't want to talk about it..."

"Please...I need to know..."

Silence again...this time, Kazuya kept his eyes away from the older boy's. "He killed me." Though it was so quiet, the little voice was still almost inaudible. The look in the boy's eyes was almost heartbreaking...a child should not be betrayed like that.

Lee finally found his voice. "Who?"

Kazuya shrugged his little shoulders. "Otousan."

A chill ran down Lee's spine. No wonder there was something strange about the old man, and sinister about the extreme lack of anything related to Kazuya...it had been an incestual killing. "Why?"

Kazuya yanked at his arm again, this time with enough force to almost pull Lee over. His voice cracked, and his face winced on its own accord. "I dunno..."  The tears came.

Now this, this, was heartbreaking. Lee's first instinct was to comfort him...he didn't mind hugging people. At this time, especially, this little ghost could use a hug. Lee's longer arms reached out and grasped the child, drawing him close. Kazuya's tiny hands clutched at Lee's flannelette pyjamas, and he buried his face into the older boy's chest. He didn't want to cry...but he couldn't help it. He missed his mother. He missed life. Hell, he even missed his father...even though he'd never said a kind word, encouraged him, hugged him, smiled at him...he was still his father, and he'd betrayed him. It wasn't fair.

It was ages before Lee finally let go of the little boy. He looked down at the apparition, and smiled softly. "It's alright...believe me you're probably better off being away from all the homework and training and getting beaten up in sparring..."

Kazuya smiled ever so slightly, and nodded. "I know...I'm just...stuck here, you know? I have nowhere to go...all I can do is watch everyone...living...and wish that I could join in too..."

Now why wasn't that like every other ghost story he'd read? "You mean like heaven? Why can't you go there?"

He shook his head, ignoring the raven locks that hung before his eyes. "I dunno...I can't find where I'm meant to go...I think I'm too young..."

Too young to die...how true. 

The child continued. "They say that you can't sleep before midday...I don't know what it means though."

Lee stood, and yawned. It was late, after all. "I don't know either...I'll try and work it out though...it's probably one of those old-fashioned riddles only grown-ups understand..."

"Probably. I hate metaphors..." 

Lee arched a brow. "Metaphors? You're younger than me and I don't even know what that means! What sort of a kid are you?"

Kazuya had turned to leave already, but looked back for just a moment. "I may look only five...but it doesn't mean I'm going to stay that...if you must know...I'm really nine...but I died when I was five..."

That explained a lot. Part five year old, part the same age as Lee. The childish emotions, the more mature thought processes. What a horrible way to be. "I should've guessed. Well, you know what?"

"What?"

Lee smirked. "You can haunt me as much as you want...I like you..."

"Will you be my friend then?" Kazuya smiled hopefully. Just because he's dead, doesn't mean he can't have friends...right?

"I'd like that." Lee's smile grew somewhat as he snuggled down into bed.

Kazuya grinned back, and turned back toward the door. "I'd like that too..." A moment later, he walked _through_ the door, and disappeared.

***  
  
A/N: yes, this was a bit of a semi-songfic...lyrics, if familiar, are from Linkin Park – Forgotten. Suitable from the title to the words in most places. Used to be addicted...now addicted to Chop Suey. I already babbled about that one, as you all know /

Next chapter coming soon, hopefully.


	4. For A Laugh

A/N: Decided to do a random update at school. No idea why. Though, it's well over 2600 words, so it's substantial…enjoy ^_^ V

***

It had been some time since Heihachi had discovered the ghost of his dead son; the memory still haunted him more than the ghost itself, even these eight years after his passing. Four years had passed since he'd seen the ghost, and so far, he thought he was the only one that had been approached by the boy.

A few rooms down he could hear Lee's loud music blaring away. He'd grown used to it, and somehow, more tolerant toward the boy since his freakish encounter. After being reminded of his big mistake, he'd slowly come to realise that he had always been a terrible father. Back when Kazuya was very young, he was anything but interested in children; he thought of them as more of a burden and a mistake rather than a gift…he came to realise, after getting to know his friends and colleagues more and more, that children were a blessing, a joy…and the means of making your soul immortal.

Guilt had consumed him for a short period as he quickly learned how little he knew his only son, and what a wasted opportunity had arisen from the child's existence. He could have been more patient, more attentive…more of a father…it would have stopped Aiko from being so depressed. He knew now that it was a mistake to force Lee upon her to replace the only child that she could ever bear – a second mistake that he could never rectify. As a result, of late, he'd relaxed his strict grip upon the family…it wasn't worth sacrificing the little respect he had left from the both of them in pointless discipline.

Heihachi rested back in his large leather armchair with a deep sigh, fingering the small box that lay in his great hands. He knew what it was…it contained a few small photo albums Aiko kept from many years ago. He would never be able to let his mind rest, never let the guilt rest, until he knew what sort of a person his son really was.

So far, his views were still prejudiced. He himself was a great warrior – the greatest on this Earth – so he expected the spawn of his own blood to follow the same trend. Kazuya, on the other hand, was never enthusiastic about training, never tried, and never succeeded. So what if he was only a child – he was supposed to be better than that. Then again, Heihachi had reasoned, of late, that small children aren't always naturally talented fighters…possibly his fault was forcing the boy too hard.

Another thing he'd never noticed was his son's academic process. He'd recently found some records of Kazuya's first year in school…it turned out he was a fast learner, and almost always top in his class in whatever they studied at that level. His writing was advanced for his age, and his reading level was even more so. He was a bright boy indeed…something he should have been proud of.

Eventually he pried the lid off the small box and placed it on the expansive desk before him. Lifting the first album, he began to flick through the pages of images…his breath hitched in his throat as soon as he saw the first one.

It was a very young Kazuya…three at the most…standing next to a wall in the Mishima dojo, his tiny white gi pants stained with blood, like a decent proportion of his bared skin…still, he had a brave look on his very youthful, chubby face…a slight smile was on his puffy lips. Shouldn't such a young boy cry with such pain? He'd never noticed what a brave, strong boy Kazuya had been…a result of being conditioned to pain from a very young age.

The next page was a little more pleasant; Aiko sitting at the beach in a one-piece, sleepily relaxing beneath an umbrella shade. Next to her, a very small chibi played with a bucket and spade, trying to pile as much sand onto a growing 'castle' as possible. Heihachi remembered taking that photo because Aiko looked quite delicious at the time…but now he was more interested in the child, almost cut off the side of the image. Compared to his friends' bratty children, snot-nosed and screaming around the place like hooligans…he came to realise that Lee and Kazuya were positively angelic.

Image after image passed before his eyes, and as he got into the final album, they got more and more painful. The boy grew older and older before his eyes, to the point a week before that fateful day. The youthful happiness slowly became replaced by preternatural calm, and an emptiness in the child's obsidian eyes. In some images, he could even see a devastating sadness buried deep within those dark eyes, in that small face. 

Finally he could take no more…and placed the albums aside, lest he fall victim to the tears that threatened to break free. He'd never taken the time to acknowledge his son, his wonderful son…and now, finally, after all this time, he wanted to undo the damage he caused. He wanted to make Kazuya the most fantastic creature to grace the Earth. The smartest warrior, the strongest fighter, the most efficient and most clever businessman…but beneath that, he wanted to see Aiko smile properly once more. These last eight years, he'd never seen a happy look on her face – not a real one, that is. 

Still, even through all of the anguish and self-hatred as a result of his callous 'disposal' of a 'burden', he still despised the boy. He wanted to make Kazuya make him proud…but he still wished the boy never lived in the first place. After all…Aiko wouldn't have fallen ill since his conception…and he wouldn't have to cope with the pain of late. Life would have been simple; business, and love for his wife. There would be no interruption from children. 

Then again, he would die with time.

A horrendous spiel of guitars screaming interrupted his thoughts, and, after replacing the albums in their box, and putting the lid back on, he decided it was time to put a peaceful end to all that…noise.

After putting the box back in a lower drawer, Heihachi stalked out of his office, down the hall, and to Lee's bedroom. Several firm knocks from a large knuckle caused a temporary break in the obnoxious squeals, and slowly, cautiously, the door opened, and a twelve-year-old Lee peeked out from behind the door.

"Sorry Otousan…" He whispered timidly. Though he was quite young, Lee was an early developer…his voice had already broken, and his was beginning to take on a less boyish shape…and he was nearly 5'6".

Heihachi frowned. "How can you be anything of worth if you can't hear, boy? Keep that music down, or you'll go deaf!"

Lee nodded quickly in acknowledgement and disappeared back into the room, this time with the volume lower than before. 

Satisfied that he could now work in relative peace, Heihachi returned to his office. The distraction was what he needed to take his mind of that boy of the past. Back to work for now…no need for any more unnecessary angst from years gone.

***  
  


Long after Aiko and Heihachi had gone to sleep for the night, Lee was still up doing homework. It was nearly midnight…thank god it was a weekend.

Frustrated with the workload and its impossibility, he threw his pen across the room, sighed deeply, and let his head hit the table. The assignment was due next Monday, and there was no way in HELL he was going to be able to finish it. Stupid maths, stupid social studies, stupid English, stupid school. He hated it all with a vengeance.

After turning on some quiet music, Lee returned to sitting staring at the junk on the table in front of him, wondering pointlessly whether it would randomly do itself for some bizarre reason, or if he'd have to get back down there again and finish it himself. Reluctantly, he reached for another pen, and began scribbling down a few notes as they came to him…he hated reading texts, he preferred to have a teacher tell him what to write. No, wait, he'd prefer not to do the work at all.

"Damnit, I don't know this stuff…who cares about Maths anyhow?"

Suddenly, he felt a presence. He was sure of it. Was it Kazuya again? He hadn't seen the boy in over two years…he almost missed his company. He was the only other person his age that knew what suffering was. That, and he was damn smart for a five-year-old. 

But no, when he looked around, his little friend wasn't there.

'Just subtract the second power on the denominator from the fifth power in the numerator…'

Lee jumped when he heard that little voice in his head…he sure as hell didn't think those words. Or maybe he did…after all, that's what his teacher in class would have said. X to the power of five…minus the two…that left him with x cubed. After checking the answers…indeed, that was the right answer! Whoever that voice belonged to, he thanked them in his head. He doubted it was Kazuya…the kid usually appeared before him, and his voice wasn't as deep…though the enigmatic voice was still boyish. It must have been his conscience or something.

At any rate, now that he understood how those stupid powers worked, he was able to put his head down and keep working…maybe he'd get the stupid project done by Monday after all.

***  
  
As he woke up the next day, Lee was startled to hear someone in his room. Usually Heihachi or Aiko knocked before they went in…but this time, there was no such privilege. He sat up with a start, only to see the culprit sitting in the chair at his desk, reading over his work!

Though he couldn't see the face of whoever it was, he could tell he was around the same age. After all, they were a similar size, and the white gi pants of the stranger were all he was wearing – he had a well toned chest and arms, and perfect olive skin – that of a fighter.

Then it occurred to him…Kazuya? No, ghosts don't age, do they? Or maybe this one does. He coughed lightly to get this stranger's attention.

Calmly, whoever it was turned to lee, one dark brow raised. "Finally decided to wake up, eh sleepy-head?" That same voice from last night…that of a preteen boy, so it seemed.

Though the answer was logical, Lee was still stunned. "Ka…Kazuya?" 

The boy smiled slightly, and nodded. "Weren't expecting me like this, were ya?"

Lee shook his head, and pulled his covers up over his bared stomach. "I thought you were meant to look like a five-year-old…"

He shrugged his lightly muscled shoulders, and pulled a knee up onto the chair. "I discovered something over the last few years…I age subconsciously – I usually appear as a five-year-old, but I can change into my 'current' age…I'm a year older than you, technically…"

Lee blinked. No wonder he helped him with his maths. "Do you age mentally as well? I mean…since you don't go to school or anything…"

"That's a mystery to me as well. I just seem to accumulate knowledge somehow…I don't even understand it myself. It's as if I grow almost as if I were still alive, but at the same time, in some ways, I don't change much from when I was five." He closed the book on the table, and shoved it aside gently. "I can change back and forth between ages easily…but when I do, my mind frame changes too. I think like a five-year-old sometimes…but at the moment, I think like a thirteen-year-old…"

Thirteen…dang. Lee smirked, and jumped out from under the covers. "Eh…so if you're thirteen…why have you still got a kid's voice?"

Kazuya blushed slightly, and scowled. "Shut up…I don't have answers to everything, you know…"

"You seem to most of the time…" Lee couldn't help but grin.

One of Kazuya's lower eyelids twitched slightly, and he leapt at Lee with a snarl.

Slightly panicked, Lee jumped aside, only to get tackled to the ground by the older ghostly boy. The two rolled about for a few moments, and Lee realised, since he wasn't being pummelled – just held down by arms much stronger than his own – that it was only a play fight…he couldn't help but laugh, and fight back playfully.

It was soon painfully obvious that though Kazuya was shorter and not as developed as Lee, he was much stronger…to the point that he kept Lee pretty well pinned to the floor with his hands alone for almost the entire wrestling match. And sadly enough, the most Kazuya ever did was smile slightly, even though Lee was hysterical with laughter…mostly from being tickled. Kazuya had caught Lee's wrists in one hand, and was tickling him freely with the other…no matter how much the silver-haired boy struggled, he couldn't free himself from the powerful grasp of the older boy.

After reducing Lee to a state of tearful hysteria, Kazuya paused to look down at his foster brother. He still had him pinned, and he was sitting on his stomach, straddling him with both white-clad legs. Once Lee recovered from his fit of laughter, he looked up into the dark eyes staring down at him, captivated…it seemed neither of them could tear their eyes away for what seemed like forever. 

Finally, Lee felt the grip on his wrists relent, and he immediately drew his arms down from above his head as Kazuya grinned at him and rolled off. When the silver-haired boy looked down, he realised with dismay that the whole ordeal had excited him…as everything seemed to do these days. Blushing, he quickly scampered away to cover himself…since he was wearing nothing but short boxer shorts. 

After running a hand through his thick black hair, Kazuya sat down on the ground, cross-legged, and watched Lee with ebbing curiosity. "You're not really that ticklish, are you?"

Lee laughed. "What do you think? I almost pissed my pants!" The only reason he didn't was for the fact that he wasn't able to at that point…what with that excitement and all. Damn adolescence to hell.

Kazuya rolled his eyes, and smiled again. Lee couldn't help but notice how nice he looked…silently he cursed himself. He was beginning to realise that he found the boys in his class as attractive as the girls…and it was scaring him.

Kazuya was about to speak again, but he was interrupted by a loud yell from downstairs.

"Lee, it's breakfast time, get your lazy rear downstairs this instant!"

Yes, Heihachi had bellowed. Lee sighed, and looked over at his adoptive brother. "You know as well as I do that I have to go now…"

Kazuya nodded, and prepared to leave. That is, until he saw the smirk on Lee's face. "Have you revealed yourself to Otousan and Okaasan yet?" He reached over to grab a pair of pants sitting over the back of his chair, and began to pull them on.

"Yes, I have…once or twice…" He paused to watch Lee, then arched a thick brow. "…are you suggesting…"

Lee grinned. "That you pay a visit to breakfast today? Yeh…"

"I shouldn't do that, you know…"

"Why not?" Lee's grin was growing more and more mischievous by the second.

"I'm dead, remember? I'm not really meant to be here at all…let alone goofing around…" Part of him was already screaming in objection already.

Lee rolled his dark hazel eyes. "Who gives a shit? Besides, you know how much your Mom loves you…and how much it'd scare your Dad to see you…"

He couldn't help but grin back. "Okay, you talked me into it…"

Lee nodded, buttoned his pants, and headed downstairs, with Kazuya following him…not in a ghostly, translucent haze, but as real as he could possibly look…


	5. Heart And Soul

A/N: Yay, I wrote this one late at night...so it's kinda...well...sad, I guess, with a bit of soppiness that should have been expected, what with the last chapter's ending and all. Y'all know what's gunna happen this time! 

I apologise if my stories are getting a little fluffy as of late, but I'm going through a filler stage. I'm padding out the stories, since I finally know where they're all going...so there's a little setting up going on here and there, particularly with this one, Déjà vu and Illusions. Uh...not that there are many more going at the moment -_-; But at any rate, this one is going to get more death oriented...I think...at least I know where it's headed, Déjà vu is going to get more serious and technical, Jakunen Mirai is going to lead onto something big I've got planned (that Chibi Sugababy knows all about, of course ^_^) and Illusions is going to end up being somewhat of an adventure...once I give it a kick in the rear. 

Since I'm a Trekker (which is NOT a Trekkie...dun ask), btw, the future spells out technobabble; genetics, technological bullcrap...you know, technobabble in general. Especially where one of my stories shall lead in particular ~_^

***

Aiko sat alone at the expansive dining room table, poking at her food with no interest. It was a traditional Japanese breakfast – tasty, very tasty indeed – but she didn't feel like eating it, as usual. Instead, she sat there in her ultramarine-blue kimono, staring at the food as if it would vanish into thin air or magically appear in her stomach if she glared at it hard enough.

Somehow, over the last few years, her depression had become less of a condition and more of a way of life. It no longer dominated her every second; it simply existed, reminding her of the terrible past, and reminding her that she had no future. She lived with it, and it lived with her. She no longer had immense outbursts of unhappiness. She no longer felt emotion. Just...emptiness.

After a while, Heihachi finally came downstairs, dressed in nothing but his nightgown and slippers. By then, his breakfast had been laid out for him on the table, and all he had to do was sit down and eat.

Though, strangely enough, he didn't seem to want to eat either...he simply picked at his meal with his chopsticks. He looked a little unsettled to her too, this particular morning. A little pale, a little shaky, definitely not ravenous like he usually was in the mornings. 

"Heihachi-sama," her voice shook slightly, and it was barely audible, even in the silence of the Mishima mansion's early morning atmosphere. 

He jumped nearly a mile at her words, and looked at her accusingly when he caught his breath and composure. "Aiko! Why..." He stopped before he could snarl at her. "...yes, dear?" His voice was somewhat strained. 

Unsmilingly, she sat back in her chair, trying to relax slightly. "Are you all right?"

After a moment of glaring at her incredulously, he sighed. "Yes, I am fine." Of course, he didn't want to tell her about the previous evening's affairs. After all, a man who sees ghosts in this day and age is considered to be completely and utterly insane. 

Though she didn't look convinced, she looked back down at her food and forced a mouthful down. As usual it nearly came up again – how could she eat, survive, live, when her son is dead? – but she managed to swallow it before it could rebel further. The next mouthful she chewed for what seemed like forever, unable to bring herself to swallow. She heard a soft sigh from further up the table, and glanced up to see Heihachi having similar difficulties with his meal.

Before she could ask, Heihachi responded to the unspoken question. He was able to read his wife's expressions, after all. "No, I'm not alright. Happy?"

The clump of food slid down her throat like a hot, slimy slug, and slithered all the way down her gullet...making her feel entirely sick by the time it reached her stomach. "Not really, Heihachi-sama. You look worried about something."

How sweet of her to care...then again, she was his wife, she was supposed to do things like that – fuss over people when they were in a state of trauma or discomfort of any kind.

The mere thought of trauma made bile rise in the back of his throat – which he quickly forced to subside. The ultimate trauma had been inflicted by him upon his very own flesh and blood – Kazuya. He grew noticeably pale with the memory. For the first time in his life, of late, Heihachi was feeling grief. Even more importantly – guilt. He knew he'd feel more if he revealed his reasoning to Aiko. As much as he looked down upon her...he couldn't bare seeing her cry. After all, she was his _wife_...he was supposed to love her.

"Strange matters on the mind of late. It doesn't concern you, you needn't fuss over it." He looked up at her, noticing the look on her face. She'd taken it as if he'd scolded her for being overly curious...he forced a slight curve of his lips, and nodded to her. "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will clear itself up and things will go back to normal soon enough." Sure they will. It was impossible for the damage of the past to be healed. Dead flesh doesn't heal; it festers. 

The waiter passed by again, placing a third dinner-set down on the table, laden with piping hot cuisine. Followed by which, of course, was the distant sound of bare feet on the richly lacquered wooden stairs of the mansion. Though, to Heihachi's keen ears, it sounded more like there were two sets of feet...either that, or Lee was walking down on his hands and knees.

The sound paused, and Heihachi could have _sworn_ he'd heard whispers. He held his jaw still for a moment, ignoring the half-masticated mouthful he had, and arched a raven brow as he listened on to the strange little performance going on behind them. Again, the footsteps continued...it _had to be Lee, goofing off and rolling down the stairs on all fours. Then again, do twelve-year-old boys still do that? He didn't think so._

Then, he could definitely say he heard whispering again as the footsteps temporarily ceased once again.

_"...not sure we should do this...he'll have a fucking cow if he sees me..."_

His brow rose even higher, and his raven eyes glanced over toward Aiko, who'd also heard the racket by now, and was looking about curiously. 

_"...don't give a damn...doesn't matter, this is going to be fun...anyhow, you deserve it..."_

After that, Heihachi knew there was something strange going on. "Lee, what the hell are you doing?" His deep, gravely voice echoed about the walls of the dining room. Again, silence.

"Uh, coming downstairs for breakfast?" He answered the question with one of his own, quite literally.

"Who've you got with you?" His curiosity and confusion was being swiftly replaced with impatience.

"Um...you'll see in a moment."

Definitely impatience he was feeling there, nothing more, nothing less. "Lee, I..." he stopped dead and went as white as a sheet when he saw exactly _who Lee had invited to breakfast._

Deep in her chest, Aiko could have sworn her heart had reached a new record heart-rate...and simply ceased under the strain. Though he was different from the last time she saw him, she knew exactly who it was.

With all eyes on the both of them, Lee felt suddenly just a little unnerved...but proceeded bravely down to the table, and sat down before his breakfast. His parents, both pallid and in a state of pure shock, stared at their interesting guest as he sat down beside Lee, watching him tuck in.

"Ka...Ka..." Aiko couldn't bring herself to say his name. 

"Kazuya..." The panicked words rushed out of Heihachi's mouth in a gruff, breathy whisper, his jaw shaking uncontrollably.

The ghostly boy, looking now like any young pre-adolescent might in terms of liveliness, shrugged nonchalantly and cocked his head to the side. "Morning, Otousan."

The cheek! He was acting almost as if he'd always been here, and it was a normal day! Still, Heihachi couldn't find his breath. He struggled to draw much needed oxygen into his lungs with a wavering gasp. "What are you doing here...how..."

That was most definitely guilt he could see in the old man's eyes, and hear in his tone. Yes, after last night's encounter, he'd filled his old man with much required guilt for the pain he'd caused his son. It may have happened on its own, however. Kazuya, endowed with powers possessed only by the dead and damned, could sense Heihachi's thoughts of him, and had acted upon them by paying a visit. He'd sensed Lee's frustration and loneliness on the same day, and had decided to help the kid out some as well. He'd drifted off into a partial slumber whilst studying lee's notes in the dark, and decided not to leave in the morning...after all, he missed Lee's company. And now, here he was, once again encountering the one responsible for this whole mess.

In that pre-teen boy's voice of his, he calmly gave the best answer he could think of at the time. "Well, I decided to join you for breakfast for once, rather than hide in the walls. Problem?"

Lee almost snorted rice out his nose, but satisfied himself with a less messy, much louder snort of suppressed laughter. Heihachi and Aiko both made no reply. There was an awkward silence between the four for a moment, and both boys began to wonder if it was such a good idea after all to bring the dead boy downstairs for all to see. However, Kazuya broke the silence once again. "Please, you've all seen me at one time or another...you all know I'm not entirely gone...get over it."

The tears once again streaked down Aiko's cheeks uncontrollably, against her will, but she forced herself not to cry. A shaky, weak smile formed on her wide lips, and she stood from her seat at the table. She would show Heihachi what was wrong with her the last eight years; she would show him the cause of her depression. Not sniffling, sobbing or choking one bit, she walked behind Kazuya's chair, and wrapped her arms around his slender, bony shoulders, hugging him tight against her chest and nuzzling his neck. She could see, now, that he would have grown to be an utterly gorgeous young man. 

Smiling softly, Kazuya rested his head backward, grasping one of her hands with his own hands – which were, by now, quite a bit larger than hers. He was, after all, in between looking like a child and a teenager. 

"Aishiteru, Kazuya..." She drew him tighter. "Don't leave us..."

Heihachi watched on, bordering on feeling horror at what he was witnessing. His dead son, now almost in teen-hood, was sitting there, before them, as if nothing had happened. Except for one thing; there was a massive scar across his chest. Heihachi knew exactly what it was from, too, and that made his heart sting. Though he looked on upon the reunion with mild disgust and hatred for the creature that had made his dear wife so ill...he was unable to discard the harrowing fact that he'd killed, in cold blood, the one thing that unified the both of them through the marriage. He was the hybrid of the world's greatest fighter and the world's kindest woman. He could have been great...great. He _could have been anything. He _would_ have been Heihachi's legacy. Now, all they were left with was a semitransparent apparition that insisted on haunting them, driving them to insanity._

Holding the boy's soft cheeks between her two small, graceful hands, Aiko glanced over at Heihachi, her eyes unreadable. She noticed how his face had changed – no longer did he have a young child's rounded cheeks; she could feel, beneath her hands, protruding cheekbones, much like her own. It gave his face a rather triangular look, though his chin was beginning to square off, a little like his father's, only without the cleft. "Heihachi-sama...this is your son. I don't believe you've met him."

When he gave her an incredulous, slightly bedazzled look, she continued in that dark, almost dangerous voice, laced in mystery. "Or should I say, you've never _known him."_

Lee had watched the whole ordeal in absolute fascination. Before this, he'd never fully known or understood the complexity of the Mishima family's inter-relationships...but now he understood. It was so innocent, yet laced with such malice. It was a living nightmare, a horror movie in real life. 

A lump welled up in the older Mishima's throat. The two pairs of obsidian eyes, so agonisingly alike, were boring into him with the intense heat of boiling magma. The anger, the hatred he had for the boy...they were melting away like ice. Replacing the void they left; anger and hatred for himself. Again, there was a painful silence, the tension in the room so thick it couldn't even be sliced with a blade...finally Heihachi spoke. His deep voice was barely above a whisper, and he almost choked on his words, barely aware of what he was saying. "...can you forgive me...?"

The look on the boy's face, the way his expression mutated ever so slightly to that of sickened seriousness, was enough to tear the balding man's heart into shreds. Kazuya looked down and away, his head tilting with his dark eyes. "I'm just a dead boy...I'm not a miracle worker..." As his mother hugged him tighter, almost to the point of strangling the boy, he looked back up at his father. "Is murder something that one can forgive, or is it something you just forget?"

The truth hurt much more than he'd expected. Murder. That's what it was. Murder. He was a murderer. He had murdered his son. He was nothing but a cold-blooded, heartless murderer. He didn't deserve to be a father. "I...I didn't know you...I didn't know what I was doing..." The desperation began to build within him. He didn't want it to be this way. "Kazuya...I didn't know you as I do now...I made a terrible mistake...I only wish I could undo the damage..." There it was. He had confessed his fears, his guilt, his anguish, his failings...before his entire family. For the master of a wealthy Japanese household, this was as emasculating as the literal sense of the word.

Feeling the small, creamy arms around him tighten even more, Kazuya let go of the solid form he'd been holding on to for the entire morning, and let Aiko's hands go straight through him...she ended up hugging herself, and collapsing to the ground, defiantly holding off the hysterical cries that wanted to erupt. At that point, she'd almost convinced herself that he was indeed alive. Trying his hardest to ignore her for the time being, Kazuya stood and walked slowly toward Heihachi, passing through any furniture that got in his way as if they were mere projections. Again, the boy's eyes conveyed a steely seriousness that belonged to someone well beyond his thirteen years. 

"But," He began, his tone softening considerably, "If I were anyone else, I would simply refuse to talk to you again, or haunt you for the rest of your days, reminding you of the past...and fuelling our mutual hatred." The wise words from the youth had everyone listening in silence. "However, there is an acceptance that we've both, inadvertently, sought after and fought for, ever since that day long ago."

For the moment, Heihachi had to peel his eyes away from his son's. He couldn't bear the shame he felt. He was nothing but a murderer...and this god of a boy was willing to compromise, it seemed. He found himself staring at the immense disfigurement ripped across the small chest before him...that in itself was even more excruciating to be reminded of than the look in his son's eyes.

Again, the boy's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I don't want to hate you, and I don't want you to hate me...I can never forgive you for what you did; I don't even have the option of living with the mistake. But I won't condemn you for it; your own self-inflicted pain is already enough to cope with...knowing what you did to me, and as a result, to Okaasan and Lee."

It was true. Kazuya had diligently summed up the entire situation in a few words. Wise words, too, for someone so young. Perhaps he'd gained infinite knowledge in his death. The youth held out his slender, smooth hand to his father after a long pause. Heihachi stared blankly at the offered limb for innumerable seconds, before grasping it with his own, holding the young hand firmly but shakily. The older man eventually stood, and laid his other hand on the shoulder well below him. He could most definitely feel rippling muscle below that smooth, tanned skin, but it barely covered the obvious bones of his shoulders, particularly the clavicle. The boy was too thin. No doubt it was because he was a representation of what he'd be if he were alive – pushed so hard it was a detriment to his health. Still, the smaller, warmer hand within his own was strong, very strong...despite his fears when the boy was younger, Kazuya would have grown to be a fantastic warrior.

And now all that was left of that legacy was its ghost. 

After an intense moment between them, they both parted company; Heihachi resumed his seat at the head of the table, and Kazuya knelt down next to his distraught yet silent mother, comforting her, holding her protectively. Lee felt completely and utterly out of place the entire time; it was all too clear to him what he was...an outcast, the extra, an adopted replacement for this miracle of a child. Leaving what was left of his breakfast, he slipped out of the room, outside to the massive gardens outdoors, unnoticed by the family behind him.

It occurred to Heihachi after a moment that something was different – throughout the excitement and trauma, he'd completely forgotten how the boy had appeared to him the previous evening.

"Kazuya...how did you age eight years in twelve hours?" His tone was slightly scornful, as it always was toward his son in the past. Old habits die hard, after all.

As Kazuya slowly looked up, his body literally shrank before both of his parents' eyes. As the obsidian orbs met the older Mishima's raven eyes, the boy was in the form of a five-year-old; the one and the same he'd grown accustomed to appearing in from way back. The silence in the room indicated understanding; he was able to take on at least two forms; that of what he should be at present, and that of the five-year-old body he died in. he gave a slight smirk, and bowed to Heihachi, almost as if asking for an encore. 

Before he could say anything, however, he found himself being grabbed roughly and half-strangled to death – only, he was dead already. He struggled a moment, but realised it was Aiko...and simply squirmed around to face her, wrapping his small arms around her neck. 

"Don't go again, Kazuya...don't go...stay with us...don't go..." She was almost unable to control her words as they came out, and her hand reached up, subconsciously, to pet the fluffy black hair on the boy's head. 

He squirmed again after a moment's inactivity. "I'll stay with you for today...but that's as long as I can stay..."

Heihachi felt just a little uneasy and a little left out of the whole situation, but watched on in curiosity. He realised that Aiko was a simpler creature than he; she didn't feel that hatred for the boy for making her ill as he did himself. She only felt that motherly love for her only son; it was so painfully obvious now.

"Why...why can't you stay? Please don't leave me..." Holding back her tears, Aiko concentrated on kissing and nuzzling the boy's soft shoulder. Since he wasn't ticklish, he didn't giggle or squirm as a result.

"Because if I stay material for too long, I simply fade out of existence for a week or so...it's not a pleasant feeling, believe me I've tried it once or twice..."

Aiko understood well enough, and finally let him go. "I should have thought so..." She smiled bitterly. "But one day with my little boy is a miracle in itself..."

As he prepared to walk off, she scooped him up off his feet, and carried him upstairs, almost floating above the ground in her state of euphoria. She would lock herself in her room with him all day, or sit outside with him until late at night...anything to spend that long-missed quality time with her one and only son.

Heihachi watched as the two disappeared up the stairs, not sure what to make of the situation that had unfolded this morning. It was at that moment that he noticed Lee was gone, and hadn't even finished his breakfast. With the need of something to occupy his confused and troubled mind, Heihachi concurred that he should spend some time with his other son, Lee, since Kazuya's time was being occupied entirely by his mother – and Lee lacked that attention, he now saw.

Leaving his breakfast on the table, Heihachi wandered out onto the estate's vast grounds. He knew that silver-haired creature loved the outdoors; that's where he would have retreated to.


	6. Quality Time

A/N: It's been some time since I've updated this one, though I did make an attempt months ago. I've tried to make this one fun as well as emotional...sensitive readers, you may want a tissue handy. Anyone else, enjoy the soppiness...and the madness at the end ^_^

Btw...I had to re-read previous chapters, it's been so long...and I nearly pissed myself laughing at the two boy's antics. If you're just reading this chapter alone, after you've done so, have a read of the latter half of the chapters...you might catch out the madness I've inadvertently put in there.

***  
Ashes to Ashes – Chapter 6

***

"My, you _are a handsome boy, aren't you?"_

With Aiko's constant doting on him, Kazuya felt almost uncomfortable for some reason. He blushed, tucking one hand behind his neck shyly. Aiko was kneeling in front of him, gently tracing his chest and stomach with her hands, admiring how much he'd grown. 

"Okasaaaaaaaaaan...are you nearly done yet? You've been staring at me for ages..."

She chuckled and pulled the thirteen-year-old boy down into a tight hug. He relented, and wrapped his thin yet muscular arms around her neck. "I'm done for now...just marvelling at how much you've grown."

"Well if it means _that much to you, I'll keep showing up from time to time to give you an update."_

Smiling, she leaned up and kissed his forehead. "It would mean the world to me." She stepped back again after a moment, once again admiring the boy's physique. He was so thin, yet so toned for a boy his age...and almost as tall as her already. Unfortunately, she could tell, just by staring into his eyes...that emotion had faded from him since that fall. Even if he smiled at her, she couldn't see the happiness in those dark eyes of him; they were cold, as if he didn't want to have anyone see he was happy, or sad, or whatever hew as feeling. 

She would have to admit to herself that he would never be the same again...he would never truly be her little boy again.

***  
  
The sun, by now, was high in the sky above Tokyo, shining brightly down upon the vast greenery of the lush Mishima Mansion gardens. The estate was the pinnacle of luxury, vitality, and wealth; an oasis in the centre of an overcrowded city. Yet, despite this wealth of fertility and life around him, Lee felt dead to the world.

He'd always felt hard-done by in this world; there was always someone better than him, richer than him, more popular than him...even now, though there was no one richer, most people were smarter and more popular by far, let alone the other attributes he lacked. Somehow, he hadn't minded over the last few years in the Mishima home – but now, now that the truth was out...

Kazuya had so much potential. He might have used it too, if he weren't dead. He was in almost every way the perfect son. He was everything Lee wanted to be; down to his dark, sultry, mysterious looks...lithe, muscular body...he was too perfect.

What scared him the most, however, was the fact that Kazuya wasn't good enough for Heihachi. Now, if someone as fantastic as that boy couldn't live up to Old Man Mishima's expectations, how could Lee survive? He didn't want to die...he was too young to die...

"Lee..."

When the deep, gravely voice broke the serene silence of the garden, Lee just about leaped out of his skin, and almost wet himself in the process from fright. Looks like now was the time...

He turned around to face his foster father, but could only look into his eyes for a second...he turned his eyes downward, staring at the ground. His bottom lip quivered...was this the end?

After a moment, Heihachi spoke again, this time in a softer tone. "Lee, are you alright? What's the matter?"

That tone of voice...it wasn't sympathetic, it didn't echo concern...but perhaps interest. Lee shook his head, but did not look up. "Nothing, father."

He knelt down in front of the boy, and tilted the silver-haired head upwards by the chin...gently but firmly. "I know your mind worries about something..."

Lee bit his lip nervously. How does one say, _I'm just kinda scared you're gonna kill me, Daddy..._

"It's that other boy, isn't it? He worries you..."

"Well..." Lee had no idea where to start. That raven-haired beauty didn't worry him at all, it was what happened to him that did. "Kinda."

Heihachi sighed and sat on the grass, cross-legged. His face, for once, didn't have that hard expression he often wore. "Lee, Kazuya was a failure as a son. He was stubborn, obstinate, obnoxious, rude, disrespectful...and a failure as a warrior. He never tried, and never achieved. He was a failure." Despite the anguish he felt earlier for what he'd done to the boy, he couldn't shake the old hatred, even if it had been matched by guilt. 

So, the truth is out. Lee bit back the tears...he was scared to death, though, he thought to himself, possibly a tad paranoid. "But if he was a failure...how could someone like me possibly measure up to please you?"

Heihachi chuckled. "Lee, my son, you are a different story. You've risen from the gutters to fit perfectly into the Mishima household. You are dedicated, loyal, and above all, respectful around the house."

_Yeah, sure,_ Lee thought to himself, _I treat you as God so I don't get my nuts kicked inside out._

The older man continued. "You are an attractive young boy, too...diligent, and open-minded. You may not be perfect, but you're still my favourite son. I have always considered you my only son."

_But what about Kazuya? What about your own son?_ Lee felt a lump in his throat grow. His mind forced before him the image of those dark, wide eyes, lacking love and emotion...the thin, scarred body of the other boy...how could such a being, a being coldly emanating such passion somehow...be disregarded like that? The thought was almost too much to bear.

"Really, father? You don't hate me?"

Heihachi actually smiled somewhat. "Lee...as I said, you are my only son..." He reached down, and grabbed the boy under the arms, and drew him close. This, Lee realised, was the first time Heihachi had ever shown anything _remotely_ like fatherly affection...and the first time he himself had received anything of the sort. It was a precious moment he may never get again. Tears welled up in his eyes, and as he returned the firm hug, they flowed freely down his cheeks. Could it be true? Could he possibly have a _family, after all these years?  
  
***  
  
From the other side of the mansion, laughter could be heard. The laughter of a woman, and with it, that of her young son. _

The two were engaged in a playful wrestling match on the grass. Kazuya managed constantly to overpower Aiko and pin her to the grass – mainly because she was ticklish, and he wasn't – but also because of the massive difference in strength. Beforehand, Kazuya had refused to let go, refused to resort to such childish pursuits...but rolling about on the grass looked like so much _fun...something he hadn't had in at least a decade...he relented and wrestled his mother to the ground._

The hours passed by so quickly the two didn't realise how long they'd been playing. Finally, Aiko managed to pin the boy by his wrists to the grass. As he looked up at the sky, gasping for breath, he noticed it was growing darker...the clouds were reflecting orange light. It was almost sundown.

Aiko couldn't help but admire her beautiful sun as he lay pinned to the grass. After hours of romping around, finally, she could see a glint of something in his eyes. Was it...happiness? It could have been, who knows...but something told her that he was feeling...happy. His eyes reflected it, or something like it – something she hadn't seen since he was about three or four. She glanced down...his ribs stuck out. He was so thin his bones stuck out – ribs, hip-bones – is this what he would have been like, if he had lived? It was painful to see.

"Kazuya, you're so thin..." She released one of his slender wrists, and rested a hand against his side.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just tall, I suppose."

"No," she shook her head, "You're too thin for a boy your age."

"Well I guess that's what I'd be like if I was alive. It's not my fault..."

In the distance, Aiko noticed Lee and Heihachi heading inside for dinner. Obviously he'd finally spent some quality time with his adopted son. Kazuya noticed too, and sat up. "I'd better let you three eat dinner, I've already denied you lunch..."

She placed a hand on his chest. "No, Kazuya...I can do without dinner if it means I can spend more time with my only son..."

His hand wrapped around her wrist, the thin fingers closing completely around it. "I'll be back sometime. You'll see me again."

"Don't go..." She felt herself getting worked up, and bit back the tears. "Don't go, Kazuya...not when I've finally found you after all these years..."

His other hand rose, and he put both of them around her hand, still pressed against his chest. "I have no choice. I can't stay long."

"What do you mean? You're here now..."

He sighed. "I don't know how to explain it, I don't completely understand myself...but if I stay too long, I fade out of existence for a while, remember?" He squeezed her hand tighter, but it didn't stop her from sobbing...she lurched forward and hugged him a little too tightly for comfort. "But don't worry, Okaasan...I can come back occasionally, for a little while...

She cried a little while, then sat back and smiled at him. "You promise you'll come and see me?"

He smiled back. It was a genuine smile...the warm, loving smile of a real 13-year-old boy. "I promise."

Aiko stood up, pulling him with her. She gave him another tight hug, and wiped her tears aside. After a moment, the hand she was holding became immaterial...her fingers went straight through it. The boy before her...she could see the trees through him! And very shortly...she couldn't see him at all; nothing but the trees. He'd simply...disappeared.

She calmed herself, gathered her wits about her, and headed indoors. Dinner was most likely prepared, since today was one of her off-days. And, most likely, Lee and Heihachi were waiting for her.

The two were already seated at the table, waiting for her to come and join them. She sat down silently, and served herself her meal from the bowls in the middle of the table.

Heihachi took a mouthful of his food, swallowed, then spoke callously. "Where's the boy?"

"He's...he's gone, back to...wherever he came from."

He took another mouthful. "Good."

Lee sat in utter silence. Aiko looked up at him, in surprise more than anything. "Good?"

Heihachi shrugged. "We can get on with today's lives now. We have a son here and now, we need not dwell on the past."

What else could she say? She opted not to argue, and ate her meal in silence.  
  
***  
  
What a day it had been. 

Lee couldn't sleep; and for once, it wasn't the obnoxious heat or humidity that defied the house's air conditioning. It was the events that had unfolded, the truths that had been presented to him over the day. They plagued his mind, forcing him to think rather than sleep.

He glanced at the clock beside his bed. One-thirty? Great. He'd been sitting up against his pillows in the dark for three hours now. He still wasn't tired, either. 

He focussed his eyes on the back of his bedroom. Maybe if he stared at nothing for long enough he'd fall asleep. Or not...when he stared for long enough, he noticed something there. Something that wasn't normally there, that is. Silently, he drew back the curtain an inch or so, allowing moonlight to flood through the room. There was something there indeed...or someone. Someone was standing in front of his desk, facing away from him, wearing nothing but white Gi pants. Was it him?

Who else would it be? Lee stayed silent, and watched the figure. He seemed to be reading the school stuff sitting on the desk, in the dark. The silver-haired boy became fixated on the other boy's back...though he was thin, there was a lot of muscle on that back of his. He was well toned for a thirteen year old, and fairly tanned. As he stealthily turned a page of a book on the desk, the muscles rippled slightly. Lee couldn't help but notice the form of what lay below the belt of those Gi pants too...for some reason, something he found rather 'yuck' to even think of...he wanted to know what the other boy's butt felt like. Damn these teenage hormones! He also had to damn himself...and being interested in almost anything on two legs, rather than just women.

He eventually glanced back at the clock. Quarter to two? He'd been staring at the kid's ass for fifteen minutes?! He couldn't help but blush. What was wrong with him? Apparently a bit...he looked back down at himself, and noticed there was a bit of a 'tent' in the bedcovers!

Hastily, he dragged his knees up to his chest under the covers. The sudden noise caught Kazuya's attention, and he glanced over his shoulder at Lee, one eyebrow perked. 

"You're awake?" He whispered.

Lee nodded robotically. His mind whirred at a hundred miles a minute trying to think of what the _hell_ he was supposed to make of the situation, especially the aching hardness under the sheets he was trying to hide.

Kazuya left the table after a moment's thought, then walked over to the bed and sat down on the end. "Cool...I guess we can talk then, or something..."

It occurred to Lee, finally, that this was the first time he'd seen the boy since that morning. "Where've you been?"

The shorter boy shrugged. "I had to go back for a few hours. I've been gone since dinnertime."

Lee rolled his eyes, but smiled, finding himself staring in fascination at the thin chest before him. That's when he realised that Kazuya was more child-like than he'd thought. "Heh...you have no hair on your chest either..." He finally reached over and turned the bedside lamp on. "And none anywhere else, except on your head..."

The raven-haired boy gave him a blank look. "Uh...why does that matter?"

"Well...it's just that...erm...well, teenagers are meant to start growing hair n' stuff, and their voices break...you know..." The blank stare Lee still got proved that no, he didn't know at all. "C'mon, surely you know about puberty!" He was having difficulty maintaining a whisper.

Kazuya shook his head. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

"Oh well." Lee thought for a moment. Hey, why not just check? "Raise your arms..."

After a moment of incredulous staring, Kazuya obeyed and lifted his thin yet muscular arms into the air.

"Wow..." the silver-haired boy looked surprised as he stared at what was offered. "You really are still a kid..."

Kazuya scowled as he put his arms down. "I don't see what's so good about looking like an ape anyway. And I don't see anything on you either!"

Lee pointed at the centre of his chest. "Look closer then."

Kazuya leaned right in, the tip of his nose an inch at most from the taller boy's chest. Yeah, so there were a few thin silver strands on his chest, big deal. He noticed the same thing as Lee lifted his arms. Lee felt himself being captivated once again by the dead boy. His skin looked so smooth, and those lips...they looked so soft up close. "Yay, a few stragglers. You're such a _big, bad man..." He reached forward and firmly plucked out one of Lee's armpit hairs._

He helped, of course, and slapped the other hand under his offended arm, but slapped his other hand over his mouth. Whoops...don't want Heihachi hearing him at this time of night. Kazuya merely grinned with a hint of malice in his eyes. Well...on closer inspection, maybe it was just a cheeky smirk.

"Why'd you do that?!"

Kazuya shrugged. "Cuz I felt like it, I guess."

Blushing, Lee dropped his knees and crossed his legs under the sheets. "Well...don't do it again, Mmmkay?"

"I won't...unless I feel like doing it again." He glanced down to notice the covers denting upward oddly. Bizarre...what did Lee have under those covers of his? He simply perked a brow and said nothing, looking over at the clock instead.

Lee noticed the stare and pulled his legs back up. Whoops again...that wasn't good. Without warning, a yawn erupted from his throat. "Agh...I'm getting sleepy."

Kazuya slipped off the bed and stood. "I'd better let you get some rest then." He turned to leave.

"No, wait..." He glanced back over his shoulder at the call. "When are you coming back?"

The smaller boy shrugged. "Don't know for sure. It'll be a while...maybe a year or so. I have some things to get done here and there."

"A year?!" He was on the verge of losing the whispering tone once again.

Kazuya rolled his eyes. "Time goes differently for me when I'm not in this solid form and amongst living people...I can't explain it. But it'll be a while for you before I can see you again. Just...try and get your homework done without me, okay?" He grinned cheekily, before walking toward the wall next to the window...and disappearing into it.

Lee watched the spot he disappeared from for a minute or so, wishing he would return...but exhaustion began to overwhelm his senses, and he relented. After turning out the light, he snuggled down under the blankets. He was about to sleep, when the throbbing hardness reminded him of its presence.

_Great, what a wonderful souvenir to leave me with, Kazuya..._ Somehow, though, he wasn't ungrateful. He was almost thankful. Still, he sighed as, for the sake of getting a few hour's sleep, he put his hands to good work. 


End file.
